Glorious
by Tithenmamiwen
Summary: "They said that it was a gas leak explosion…" "…But?" "…but I don't really think it was."- England really should have known the consequences when dealing with volatile magic.


Summary: "They said that it was a gas leak explosion…" "…But?" "…but I don't really think it was."- England really should have known the consequences when dealing with volatile magic.

Pairing(s): Eventual Us/Uk

Warning(s): Angst, hurt/comfort, slash, blood, violence, romance

Rating(s): M

Disclaimer: I, Tithenmamiwen, make no profit whatsoever from this franchise.

**Prologue**

"_There is nothing glorious about what our ancestors call history. It is simply a succession of mistakes, intolerances, and violations."~ Claude Vorilhon_

There was a desolate, oppressive feel as America made his way up the hill to England's manor.

One that sent chills down his spine.

But, having been sent to investigate England's disappearance, the journey must be made- regardless of whatever misgivings America had. To be truthful, America was extremely worried about the Brit as well, having had no message or contact with the nation for several weeks. A quick check with other nations revealed the same results; no contact. Granted, England was never known for keeping contact with most of the nations, but it had been two conferences and England's been a no-show for both; something that has never happened before.

It was now nearing a month since the Brit's disappearance, and America felt it high time to look for the wayward blond.

As he continued the climb up the cobble-stoned pathway, the chills seemed to increase in proximity to the house. To be fair though, it wasn't just the area that had the gloom-and-doom feel. Everywhere in England had the same, intense feel in the air: Birmingham, Bristol, and Cambridge, but none more so than Northumberland- England's countryside home and, most likely, the focal point of all the tension.

Having reached the last step to the top of the hill, America slowly looked up, as if afraid of what he might find, before gasping.

Where once stood a beautiful, two-story manor was now a disaster area. Most of the house was gone, except for some bits of brick foundation here-and-there. Everything in a seven-foot range of what used to be a house was blackened and crumbling down. Some smoke lazily rose to the sky, as if there was a fire that had just been put out.

Snapping out of his shock, America quickly ran towards the destruction, and began searching for England amidst the ruins, calling out to England every few minutes.

But, when there was no sign of the Brit whatsoever, and no response, America stopped and breathed heavily, mind running a mile an hour.

"Right," he said, "first thing's first."

Calling Canada, who he had tasked with looking through police records while he went out and investigated the scene, America barely paused for greetings before diverting to what he really wanted to talk about.

"So, what the hell do the police reports say? Because it sure as hell looks like a bomb blew up over here."

America heard the shuffle of papers before Canada spoke, "Well according to the records…they said it was a gas leak explosion…"

America waited a moment for Canada to continue, but quickly realized his brother wasn't going to volunteer his own theories. "…But?" America prompted.

"…but I don't really think it was."

A thick silence hung in the air.

_~x~_

"Okay, so what are we talking about here, bro? 'cause I got nothing."

Having decided to regroup and discuss plans before continuing the next morning, they went to a McDonald's, and were now sitting across from each other at a table with their meals.

America popped a few French fries into his mouth while waiting expectantly for his brother to respond.

"Well…from what I read, the police reported that it was a gas leak explosion, remember?" Canada waited for his brother to nod before continuing, "But, if it were an explosion like that, well…there would still be at least _some_ remains of England, wouldn't there? You said you couldn't find any sign of England whatsoever, right?"

Swallowing some soda, America rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, it _has_ been a few weeks before we decided to check. Couldn't animals have picked off what was left of him? I hate the thought as much as you do, but birds and small critters could have easily run off with whatever scrap of clothing was left behind to warm their homes."

Canada blanched before giving America a look, as if he really should know better, "America, most animals have an innate instinct in them that know when to avoid danger. An explosion that caused a house like England's to become leveled would cause animals to avoid that particular area for a good many weeks. If there were any sign of animal life whatsoever, they would be fresh. There would be fresh animal droppings in and about the site, and I'm pretty sure that some of them might have made homes nearby; homes that they would have abandoned when you approached. Did you notice any signs of animal life nearby?"

America shook his head. While he did not particularly look for wildlife in the first place, he would have definitely noticed animals running as he approached.

Deciding to give his brother the benefit of the doubt, America eyed him. "Alright then, you say it's not a gas explosion. What else could cause damage on that scale?"

Canada shrugged, "What do we know that England likes to do that could potentially be dangerous?"

America, having been drinking coke, spluttered before coughing and hacking as the liquid went down the wrong way.

"You can't seriously be suggesting magic, can you? Magic is NOT real."

Canada calmly wiped his face clean of some coke that had sprayed onto him. "And what's wrong with my theory? You might not believe in magic, but England does. England practices it, and _that_ is my point. Regardless of whether or not you believe in it, England plays around with it on an almost daily basis, and regardless of what he's doing, it can still be potentially dangerous. We know everything about his habits; that when he's particularly upset, he works on potions and spells to get revenge, and do we remember _why_ England was upset at the end of the last meeting he came to?"

America shifted somewhat guiltily at the directed question before reluctantly mumbling, "I got into a fight with him, and some things were said." Canada waited patiently before America grumbled. "The conversation eventually turned to where I said if he were so upset over my becoming my own nation, then he should have been around more often and stopped with the taxes, and I also said some things about how he couldn't possibly imagine how hard it was living on my own with him only visiting a few times a year."

Canada let out a sigh, "And that was very insensitive of you, America. You know that it took a good many weeks to travel from England to visit you back then. Why do you still insist on bringing up his supposed past faults like that? Past faults that aren't even his fault to begin with?!"

America frowned before giving the stink eye to some people who glanced over at the raised voice. "Alright, alright, I know I messed up by bringing that up, and you and France both gave me a lecture on that already, remember? And I apologized to England later that day, and he seemed fine afterwards, so why are you still upset over it?"

Canada, having calmed down, leaned back faintly before asking, "Do you really not know anything about England's past? Surely he's told you some stories before."

America, playing with the straw in his cup, shrugged. "He told me a few stories about some of his exploits, conquering the Spanish Armada for example, but he never really told me anything bad. Most of his stories were bed time stories to get me to sleep, nothing more."

Canada, still looking dumbfounded at America, blinked and rubbed his forehead. "America, next time do yourself a favor and pick up a history book or two before insulting other nations on their past like that. Even if you were to read about it, you really can't believe it unless you experience it yourself. Really, you and I were lucky to be alive when we were rather than be alive back then."

America blinked, looking thoughtfully. "If you seem to know so much about it, why not just tell me about it right now?"

But Canada shook his head, "No, if you are to ask about it, it is something that only England or France has the right to tell you. Aside from it being their history, I could never do their past justice."

America stared Canada down, but after a moment, sighed, "I guess I understand what you mean, but that's something we should worry about after we find England. For now, we need to decide what to do. I'll go back to his house and see if there's any sort of clue there. I didn't get much chance to look thoroughly due to the sun setting, and maybe I can check that creepy-ass forest close to the house; meanwhile…I think you should go speak to the Queen. Find out any other information she might have that could be of any use. I'll call you when I'm at the house."

Having not found any fault with that plan, Canada agreed. Having nothing else to discuss for that night, America and Canada paid before going on their separate ways.

_~x~_

"Right, so I have yet to find anything around the area where his house was," America said, turning around in a circle as he did so.

It was late in the morning, and America made for England's house immediately after breakfast. Canada, as per last night's plan, had gone to meet with the Queen in the hopes that she could give out any new information.

"Actually…it's kinda creepy how there's nothing here. You'd think there'd still be bits and pieces of things after the explosion, you know wood, burnt papers, electronics, and stuff like that. But the only actual rubble that's around seems to have come from the brick of the house itself, nothing from inside. There's also no sign of animal-life at all around here either."

America eyed the forest that was a few miles away from England's house once more. It was a big forest, and he was pretty sure someone could get lost in there if they were a first time camper. It was the sort of forest featured in fairytales like Red Riding Hood.

The forest seemed almost unnatural, even in the daytime.

"Actually, hold on to that thought, I'm gonna check out the forest."

Without waiting for a response, America ended the call, ignoring his brother's protests before making his way to the forest. Strictly speaking, his instincts seemed to beckon him towards the forest, and, say what you will about his intelligence, his instincts were usually right.

The forest was a good bit of a walk away, such that America had to brush some slight sweat off his brow. It wasn't from exertion of the walk itself, but, rather, because it happened to be the one day where the sun was beaming down strongly from a clear sky that caused America to sweat lightly.

Reaching the edge of the forest, America stopped at the edge to stare ahead. "You know, if I didn't get the creeps, I'd imagine this would be an awesome place," he said to himself.

Gazing into the vast area of trees, America frowned. _'Damn, it's gonna take more than one day,'_ he thought.

Sighing, he entered the forest, and began picking his way through the trees. Having thought ahead, America had purchased red tape, and used that to mark his trail. After all, he was _not_ in the mood to get lost.

After an hour's time in the forest, America, stopping to take a small break, dug out his cell phone from his pants pocket, and called Canada to update him on the status of his search.

It was as Canada answered that America lowered his phone in shock. Quickly bringing his phone up once again, America quickly said, "I think I might have found something," before hanging up once more.

There was a flash before the figure America caught sight of began to run further into the forest. America quickly took off following the figure, but the person obviously knew the land very well, for America- despite his strength- could barely keep up as he was bigger and, therefore, more cumbersome than the one he was chasing.

America dodged an arrow when the figure turned around to aim and shoot, and he managed to dodge two more before the person shooting the arrows tripped over a large tree root, and began tumbling down a rocky incline in the ground. As he caught up to the stopped person, America slowed down to slowly inch closer, the way one might when placating a wild animal.

The person stiffened as America came up beside him, but did not move, allowing America to get a better view of him.

Two green eyes stared up at the nation warily, tense at the prospect of an attack.

America swallowed tightly.

"…England?"


End file.
